Unholy Consumption
by CortessaBlatt
Summary: Revan and Malak’s apprentice days. Pointless little oneshot. Kinda cute. HINTED MalakRevan


**Unholy Consumption**

_Revan and Malak's apprentice days. Pointless little oneshot. Kinda cute. HINTED Malak/Revan_

**Rated PG13**

**Disclaimer: **I would be ashamed if I did own Star Wars right now.

**Unholy Consumption**

He strode back and forth, his heels clanking clearly on the metal grating, his arms clasped behind him in masculine consideration. Suddenly he halted and pivoted, facing the quailing woman before him with a whoosh of his cape, his eyes flickering with unrestrained malice.

"Why are they taking so long?" he barked.

The woman backed away, her hands shaking at her chest. Her suggestive slave clothing bobbed with her movement. One string that held the lower half of it together on the left side had been cut, and it drooped low, revealing all of her lower hip and upper thigh.

"I asked you a question, slave!" he shouted, his voice raising.

She screamed, clutching her head. "I do not know, my master!" she shrieked.

The man drew his lightsaber, snarling with feral, insane fury, his eyes burning. A man threw himself at his arm, gripping it tightly.

"Master, consider this!" he cried. "She's a damn good whore, sir! Spare her! She cannot help it if her brains are addled! Why could she know something?"

The man considered it, and his lip twitched. Finally, he pocketed his lightsaber, glaring at the sobbing woman on the floor. He spat on her quivering body and kicked her. She squawked, and bolted out the door. No one stopped her.

"My apprentices had better arrive soon or someone's innards will be decorating the brig hall!" the man shouted then, and turned his back to them, folding his arms with his frustration. His skull had been shaved bald, and several snake-like tattoos rose from his collar and slid over his temples, framing his eyes. His face was firm but handsome, but had been spoiled in his years as a Dark Lord.

The door opened and a pale, teenage Malak strode forward, his face set with determination. On his heels walked a grim-looking Revan, her dark hair coiled into tight buns, braids, and tails. Both were dressed in identical, tight-fitting suits, with high collars and swooshing capes. Malak's boots were thick and clunked on the floor, and Revan's were thigh-high, stiletto-heeled, and clinked with a deadly but feminine air. Both walked upright, chins thrust out, their eyes glittering with contempt, shoulders squared.

The man whirled around, and slapped Malak immediately, sending the boy sprawling on the bridge floor. The girl stared at him, her eyes wide with a mix of horror, anger, surprise, and cruel amusement. Malak jumped back up, setting his jaw angrily, his eyes blazing with defiance.

"Where were you?" the man snapped.

Malak couldn't think of what to say. He merely bowed and his Master drove the hilt of his lightsaber into the back of Malak's head. Malak winced, gritting his teeth against the pain. To soothe their Master, Revan stepped up, grasping the man by his head, and kissed both eyelids and his scar before she backed down and bowed.

Pacified, their Master just stared at them both. "You are very late," he said. "One of these tech lackeys have you to thank for their life."

The techies seemed to be shaking.

Malak sneered. "If I had known you were to murder someone, Master, I would have waited a moment or two more."

The Master laughed in appreciation. Revan grinned harshly, her eyes burning with her contempt.

"Very well. We have much to study today."

Malak groaned. "Master, must we read so?" he complained.

The Master cuffed him with all of his might, sending the boy flying, until he slammed against the wall and fell, limp. Revan cried out, reaching out for him, and the Master slapped her, but gently, for he took pity on her.

"Love is for the weak, girl! Be strong!"

Revan nodded, squaring her shoulders.

"Malak, get up, you pathetic whelp," the Master barked, and Malak staggered to his feet, his head reeling. "Now. I learned all of my skills from books. It brings me great power."

"But must we spend so much time reading? What of battle practice? Meditation?"

"ENOUGH FROM YOU, BOY!" He raised a hand to strike him again, but thought better of it. "Get to your studies before I strip you and flush you out the airlock."

Malak and Revan scrambled out of sight.

------

"This is _boring_," Malak mumbled, flipping the pages without reading them, resting his chin in his hands, though his head was very sore.

Revan was surrounded by books, and her nose was stuck in her notes, her vid-pen dangling from her mouth, her eyes twinkling with her fascination.

"Revan," Malak whined.

"Maybe you should just learn how to read, Mal," she replied cheekily, not looking up.

He gasped, offended. "I can read!" he cried defensively.

"Mm hmm," she said, but from her tone he could tell she was unconvinced.

He frowned. "You're just jealous because the Master loves me more."

She grinned as she read. "If 'loving you' means 'kicking your ass every time he can,' then I agree," she said, and one of her skinny braids tumbled over her shoulder.

Malak snarled angrily, lifting his finger to argue, but he realized she was telling the truth. Sighing angrily, he looked away, folding his arms unhappily.

"It's okay, Mal," she murmured, flipping the page of a very thick album. She glanced up at him slyly and winked. "I'll teach you someday."

Despite himself, he burst out laughing.

------

**Author's Notes: **I'm sure that some of this doesn't add up to real happenings in the game, but I don't care. I had fun with it. This aught to hold you off until I can get to work on Backwater Planet and finish the next chapter of Savior Self.

Edit I and II: Bad typos.


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